I’ve lived in my apartment for almost three years. For two and a half of those years, I lived ignorant to the fact that I had (unsanctioned) roof access. My apartment is on the 5th floor of a five floor walk-up, so the stairs leading to the roof are conveniently located right outside my door. However, when I signed my lease and the landlord said “You can’t go on the roof, the door is locked,” I was bummed but nodded and believed his words to be true.
You’d listen to this sign too, right?
Flash forward to this summer. I arrive home one balmy July night and hear muffled voices coming from, what I think to be, inside my apartment. Lo and behold, the chatter is actually coming from the roof. My ballsy sister and her friends had looked at the (apparently unlocked) door, pushed it open and threw themselves a party.
I’ve always gotten a small thrill from being on any sort of elevated outdoor space. There is something about taking in the enormity of a cityscape from an altered perspective that enthralls me. With this being said, here are some moments captured from my modest rooftop.
Funky art living on the roof. Unknown artist.
Looking North West.
My sister Kerry and cousin Leigh partaking in some roof action. Looking South East.
Me and Leigh. Picture courtesy of Kerry. South-bound view.
9/11 Memorial Lights. Poignant from 100+ blocks away. Looking South West.
Day or night, it’s the perfect place to collect your thoughts.